Gay Bar Superstar
by LadyDivine91
Summary: Nursing a bar stool at Scandals, Kurt spots a handsome man dancing with a skeevy guy - a man he just can't take his eyes off of. Kurt thinks that handsome man may want to dance with him, but should he really cut in? Of course, he should. He's done it before. Klaine. Kurt H. Blaine A.


**Written for the Klaine Valentines Challenge prompt "Can't Take My Eyes Off of You"**

"Here ya go, buddy – one Shirley Temple, extra cherries."

"Yeah, yeah, thanks." Kurt reaches back blindly to grab a cherry from his glass, barely acknowledging the burly man who slid it across the bar to him. Kurt pops the cherry in his mouth, chews it, swallows it, then immediately grabs another. He pounds them back one at a time, his mind, and his _eyes_ , focused elsewhere …

… out on the dance floor, where a handsome man in skin tight jeans, a blue cardigan, and a bowtie (of all things) shakes his ass to a retro ABC tune.

And he's got a stellar ass, too – plump, pert, testing the limits of that denim fabric's sustainability every time he wiggles his hips.

If Kurt's not mistaken, the man seems to be making eyes at him, flashing him a goofy but suggestive grin after every butt jiggle. Kurt doesn't hide the fact that he's watching him - has been watching him - for at least four songs now.

Kurt can't help himself. The way the man slides across the dance floor, the way he smiles, the way his body moves …

He's intoxicating. Kurt can't take his eyes off of him.

Kurt doesn't know him from Adam, but he can guess a thing or two about him, namely that he's out of his element, and he might be tipsy, but whether that's because no one's ever taught him about moderation (the amount of gel he wears in his hair leads Kurt to believe that that might be the case) or because he can't hold his alcohol, Kurt doesn't know. He hasn't seen him take a sip.

Kurt would hop off his stool and find out for himself, ask if handsome man might require the services of a designated driver, except that he's not alone.

The man he's dancing with - almost a full head taller, mildly attractive (even though he looks a little skeevy, in Kurt's opinion), with shamefully average style sense - is all over him, not exactly touching him, but close enough, trying to grind against him. But handsome man doesn't seem to notice. He spins and two-steps out of reach at the last minute, eyes bouncing over to the bar every chance he gets.

Over to _Kurt_.

Which leads to the question – why is Kurt nursing this bar stool when there's a handsome man on the dance floor who seems to want to dance with him? Kurt doesn't know if handsome man and skeevy guy came together, but even if they did, handsome man doesn't seem all that interested in him. And it's not like Kurt hasn't done this kind of thing before – interrupted a handsome man dancing with a skeevy guy, in this very bar as a matter of fact. And how did that turn out? After an argument and a few bumpy roads, it ended up being one of the greatest decisions of Kurt's life.

A few days later, it lead to one of the most magical first times in history.

What would it hurt to see if he could get lightning to strike the same place twice?

He sees skeevy guy get bolder and slip an arm around handsome man's waist. Handsome man startles and pulls uncomfortably away. He shoots Kurt a nervous glance, and that's it. As far as Kurt's concerned, maybe handsome man came with skeevy guy, maybe he didn't. But he's not leaving with him if Kurt has anything to say about it.

Kurt abandons his Shirley Temple and storms over, eyes locked on handsome man's face right as he turns to send the bar – and Kurt – another flirty smile. Kurt weeds his way between the two men, eliciting a "What the fu-?" from skeevy guy. Handsome man smiles at Kurt and God! If he isn't even more devastating up close! Handsome man's smile goes from flirty to loopy, but holds enough heat to give Kurt courage. Without a word, Kurt wraps handsome man in his arms and kisses him, brands him with cherry sweetened lips in the most animalistic of ways.

And handsome man kisses him back – bashful, desperate, and then dirty, wrapping a leg around Kurt's to pull him closer, fitting himself against Kurt's hip as he begins to get hard. Kurt braces himself for retaliation from skeevy guy, but nothing comes – nothing physical. He hears skeevy guy chuckle behind him, but Kurt has stopped paying attention.

"Well, well, well. You actually managed to hold out for …" Sebastian mimics checking his watch even though he doesn't wear one "… about fifteen minutes this time. I'd say that's a new record, Hummel."

"Yeah." Blaine agrees, which turns into a gasp when Kurt moves down his jawline to his neck. "I was getting … a little worried. Especially when Bas put his arm around my waist." But if Blaine was honestly worried, he stops the moment Kurt starts unbuttoning his shirt and devouring his shoulder. The more advances Sebastian makes during this scene, the hornier Kurt seems to become.

And the more eager he is to stake his claim.

It works like a charm every time.

"Jesus Christ, you know, I can't believe they still have 'Poison Arrow' on the jukebox," Sebastian remarks, unfazed by the men practically dry humping in front of him. "You'd think they would have at least switched it out for some Sia. And … are those the same pair of pants you were wearing back in high school?" Sebastian looks Blaine up and down and whistles low. "How did I not notice? How the hell did you manage to squeeze into those? With a shoe horn?"

"Thanks, Bas," Blaine manages, putting up a hand for Sebastian to slap, hoping that a little gratitude will subtly move their friend along. Blaine doesn't think so. Sebastian never could take a hint. Or care. But after junior year, that went from being a tactic to simply a character trait. "We owe you one."

"Yeah. Just like last year. And the year before that," Sebastian scoffs. "And yet I don't hear any invitation to watch … or join in."

"Maybe next time," Kurt mumbles, sucking on a spot that makes Blaine roll his eyes back and moan out loud, completely unconcerned by the attention it may get them.

But this is _Scandals_ , a.k.a. the seediest bar in West Lima. No one even bats an eye.

"Yeah, right. I won't hold my breath." Sebastian shakes his head at the two men who have effectively forgotten that Sebastian Smythe exists. Rejected but not dejected, he walks off toward the front door where his own date waits, itching to get out of there and get their night started. "Happy anniversary, guys. Call me when the roleplaying involves a threesome and superhero costumes."


End file.
